It is a foule thynge worthye rebuke and blame A vyce to reprehende and do the same.

FOOTNOTES:

[154] Whispered—Singer.

[155] Kissed, from the French word.

[156] i.e. twit or taunt.

[157] Parvus et Magnus Catho, printed by Caxton, n.d. 4to. Chaucer, in his Miller's Tale (Chaucer's Works, ed. Bell, i. 194), describes the old carpenter of Oxford, who had married a young girl, as having neglected to study [Magnus] Catho, which prescribed that marriages ought to take place between persons of about the same age.

"He knew not Catoun, for his wyt was rude, That bad man schulde wedde his similitude."

No doubt both Cato and Parvus Cato circulated in MS. before the invention of printing. The former was printed by Caxton in 1483-4. See Blades (Life and Typography of William Caxton, ii. 53-4).



+ The Uplandisshe mans answere, concerninge the steple and pulpit. xii.

+ In a certayne place, on a tyme the perysshyns[158] had pulled downe theyr steple, and had buylded it vp newe agayne, and had put out theyr belles to be newe-founded: and bycause they range nat at the bysshops entrynge into the village, as they were wont and acustomed to do, he asked a good homely man, whether they had no belles in theyr steple: he answered: no! Than, sayde the bysshop, ye may sylle aweye[159] your steple. Why so, and please your lordship, sayd the man? Bycause hit stondeth vacant, said the bysshop. Than sayde the man, we may well sylle away an other thinge, that we haue in our churche. What is that, sayd the bysshop? That is a pulpit, quod he. For this vii yere ther was no sermon made therin.



+ Of the beggers answere to M. Skelton the poete. xiii.

+ A poure begger, that was foule, blacke and lothlye to beholde, cam vpon a tyme vnto mayster Skelton the poete, and asked him his almes. To whom mayster Skelton sayde: I praye the, gette the awaye fro me: for thou lokeste as though thou camest out of helle. The poure man, perceyuing he wolde gyue him no thynge, answerd: For soth, syr, ye say trouth, I came oute of helle. Why dyddest thou nat tary styl there, quod mayster Skelton? Mary, syr, quod the begger, there is no roume for suche poure beggers as I am: all is kepte for suche gentyl men as ye be.

FOOTNOTES:

[158] Parishioners. This jest is included by Johnson in his Pleasant Conceits of Old Hobson, the Merry Londoner, 1607 (reprinted 1843. p. 17).

[159] Sell away.



+ Of the chaplen, that sayde our lady matens a bed. xiiii.

+ A certayne lorde's chaplen bosted on a tyme, syttynge at his lorde's table, that he sayde our lady matyns euery morninge besyde all his other seruice and orisons. The lorde, to proue whether his chaplen did as he sayde, arose yerly on a morninge, and went to his chaplen's chamber, and called hym, saying: where be ye, syr wylliam? Here, and please your lordshyp (quod he), in my bedde. Why, sayd the lorde, I thought ye had ben vp and sayenge of our lady matyns. I am nowe sayinge it, quod the chappleyn. What! lienge in your bedde, quod the lord? why, syr, sayd the chapplain, where shudde women be serued but a bedde?



+ Of him that lost his purse in London. xv.

+ A certayn man of the countre, the whiche for busines came vp to London, lost his purse as he wente late in the euenynge; and by cause the somme therin was great, he sette vp bylles in dyuers places that, if any man of the cyte had founde the purse, and wolde brynge it agayne to him, he shulde haue welle for his laboure. A gentyll man of the Temple wrote vnder one of the byls, howe the man shulde come to his chamber, and tolde [him] where. So, whan he was come, the gentyll man asked him fyrst what was in the purse; secondli, what countrey man he was, and thirdly, what was his name? Syr, quod he, xx nobles was inne the pourse; I am halfe a walshe man; and my name is John vp Janken.[160] John vp Jankyn (sayde the gentyll man), I am gladde I knowe thy name: for so longe as I lyue, thou nor none of thyn name shal haue my purse to kepe; and nowe fare well, gentyll John vp Jankyn. Thus he was mocked to scorne and went his way.

Hereby ye may perceyue, that a man can not haue a shrewde tourne, but otherwhyle a mocke withall.

FOOTNOTES:

[160] John ap Jenkin.



+ Of the marchaunt that lost his bodgette betwene Ware and Lon[don]. xvi.

+ A certayne marchant betwene Ware and London lost his bodget and a c li. therin, wherfore he caused to proclayme in dyuers market townes, that who so euer[161] founde the sayde bodget, and wolde bryng it agayne, shulde haue xx li. for his labour. An honeste husbandeman, that chaunsed to fynde the sayde bodget, brought it to the baily[162] of Ware, accordynge to the crye, and required his xx li. for his labour, as it was proclaymed. The couetous marchant, whan he vnderstode this, and that he muste nedes pay xx li. for the fyndynge, he sayd, that there was an c and xx li. in his bodgette, and so wolde haue hadde his owne money and xx li. ouer. So longe they stroue, that the matter was brought before mayster Vauasour the good Judge. Whan he vnderstode by the bayllye, that the crye was made for a bodget with an c li. therin, he demanded where hit[163] was? Here, quod the bailly, and toke it vnto him. Is it iust an c li. sayde the Judge? Ye, trulye, quod the baillye. Holde, sayde the Judge (to him that founde the bodget), take thou this money vnto thyne owne vse: and if thou hap to fynde a bodgette with a c and xx li. therin, brynge it to this honest marchante man. It is myn; I lost no more but an c li. quod the marchant. Ye speke nowe to late, quod the Judge.

By this tale ye may vnderstande, that they that go about to disceyue other, be often tymes disceyued them selfe. And some tyme one fallethe in the dytche, that he him selfe made.

FOOTNOTES:

[161] The original has who so ever that.

[162] Baillie or magistrate, from the old French word bailli.

[163] This form of it, though it does not occur in the C. Mery Tales, is very common in old English works; see the Seven Sages, edited by Wright, 1845, for the Percy Society, and the Anglo-Saxon Passion of St. George, 1850 (Percy Soc.).



+ Of him that was called cuckolde. xvii.

+ A certayne man, whiche vpon a tyme in company betwene ernest and game was called cuckolde, went angerly home to his wife and sayde: wyfe, I was this day in company called kockolde; whether am I one or nat? Syr, truly, sayde she, ye be none. By my fayth (sayde he), thou shall swere so vpon this boke; and helde to her a boke. She denyed it longe; but whan she sawe there was no remedy, she sayde: well, sythe I must nedes swere, I promyse you by my faythe, I will swere truly. Yea, do so, quod he. So she toke the boke in her hande and sayd: By this boke, syr, ye be a cokolde. By the masse, hore, sayd he, thou lyest! thou sayste it for none other cause but to anger me.

By this tale ye may parceyue, that it is nat best at all tymes for a man to beleue his wife, though she swere vpon a boke.



+ Of the iolous man. xviii.

+ A man that was ryght iolous on his wyfe, dreamed on a nyght as he laye a bed with her and slepte, that the dyuell aperd vnto him and sayde: woldest thou nat be gladde, that I shulde put the in suretie of thy wife? Yes, sayde he. Holde, sayde the dyuell, as longe as thou hast this rynge vpon thy fynger, no man shall make the kockolde. The man was gladde therof, and whan he awaked, he founde his fynger in * * * * * * *.



+ Of the fatte woman that solde frute. xix.

+ As a greate fatte woman sate and solde frute in a Lente, there came a yonge man bye, and behelde her frute ernestly, and specially he caste his eyes on her fygges. She asked him, as was her gyse: syr, wyll ye haue any fygges; they be fayre and good? And whan she sawe he was content, she sayde, howe manye? wyll ye haue fyue li? He was content. So she wayed him oute fyue li. into his lappe: and whyle she layde aside her balaunce, he wente his waye faire and softely. Whan she tourned to haue taken her[164] money, and sawe her chapman go his waye, she made after apace, but faster with her voice than with hir fote. He, dissemblinge the mater, wente styll forth on. She made suche a cryenge and folkes gathered so faste, that he stode styll. So in the preace he shewed to the people all the matter, and said: I bought nothing of hir; but that that she vnbyd gaue me, I toke; and if she wyll, I am contente to go before the Justice.



+ Of a poller that begyled a prest. xx.

+ Vpon a tyme in Andwarpe a false pollynge[165] felowe came vnto a certeyne preste, that hadde his purse hangynge at his gyrdell strouttinge[166] oute full of money that he a lytell before had resceyued, and gentilly gretynge hym sayde: good Mayster, our parysshe preste bad me bye him a palle[167] (which is the vppermoste vestement, that a preste syngeth masse in); if it wolde please you to go with me, I were moche bounde to you: for our curat and you be of one stature. The preste was contente. Whan they came there where he wolde bye it, the palle was broughte forth, and the preste dyd it on: the poller loketh and toteth[168] thereon, and preyseth it, but he layde a wyte,[169] that it was to shorte before. Nay, quod the syller, the faute is nat in the vestement, hit is the strouttinge purse vnderneth that beareth hit up. Shortely to speake, the prest dyd of his purse, and layde hit by, and than the vestiment they behelde agayne. Whan the poller sawe the preste was tourned, he snatched vp the purs, and toke his legges and to go.[170] The preste rounne after with the vestement on his backe: and the vestement-maker after the prest. The prest bad stop the thefe, the siller bad stop the prest, the poller bade holde the mad preste, and euery man wende[171] he had ben mad in dede, bicause he had the vestement on his backe; and so whyle one letted an other, the false poller went his waye.

FOOTNOTES:

[164] The original has whan she turned her to have taken money.

[165] Cheating.

[166] The word seems to be here used in a rare sense. The meaning is bulging.

[167] This word (Latine pallium) was originally used in a special and exclusive signification.

[168] Singer explains this to mean gazeth.

[169] Found fault with it.

[170] There is probably some corruption here. We ought perhaps to read: "and toke to his legges as if to go."

[171] Weened.



+ Of Papirius pretextatus. xxi.

+ AULUS GELLIUS[172] reherseth, how the Senatours of Rome on a tyme helde a great counsaile. Before which tyme the senatours chyldren, called of their garmentes Pueri pretextati, vsed to come into the parlemente house with theyre fathers. So at this tyme a chylde, called Papyrius, cam in with his father and herde the great counsayl the which was straytely commaunded to be kept secrete, tyll hit was decreed. Whan this chylde came home, his mother asked him what the counsaile was. The chylde answered, hit oughte nat to be tolde. Now was his mother more desyrous to knowe hit than she was before; wherfore she enquered more straitly and more violentlye. The chylde, beinge sore constrayned of his mother, shortelye deuysed a propre merye leasynge.[173] It is reasoned in the parlemente (quod he), whether of both[174] shulde be more profytable for the comon welth, a man to haue ii wiues or els a woman ii husbandes. Whan she harde him saye so, her mynde was pacified: and forth-with she wente and tolde hit to the other matrones.

On the morowe, a great company of the moste notable wyues of Rome came to the parlemente house weping, and humbly prayeng, that rather one woman shuld be maryed vnto ii men than ii wemen to one man. The Senatours entringe into the court, what with the sodayn assembling of the wyues and of their request, were right sore astonied. Than the childe Papyrius stode forth, and enformed the senatours, how his mother wold haue compelled him to vtter the secrete counsayle: and howe he, to contente her mynde, feyned that leasynge. For which dede the Senatours right hyghly commended the childes fydelite and wytte. And forth-with they made a law, that no child after that (saue only Papirius) shuld come in to the parlement house with his father. And for his great prudence in that tender age he hadde gyuen to hym, to his great honour, this surname Pretextatus.

Whereby ye may se, that the hygh treasure of man, and greattest grace, rested in well-ordrynge of the tonge. The moste prudent poete Hesiodus sayth: The tonge shulde not ronne at large, but be hydde as a precious treasure: for, of all the membres of man, the tonge yll-ordered is the worste. The tonge blasphemeth God. The tonge slaundereth thy neyghbour. The tonge breaketh peace, and stereth vp cruell warre, of all thynges to mankynde moste mischefull; the tonge is a broker of baudrye; the tonge setteth frendes at debate; the tonge with flatterynge, detraction and wanton tales enfecteth pure and clene myndes; the tonge without sworde or venome strangleth thy brother and frende; and brefely to speake, the tonge teacheth cursed heresyes, and of good Christiens maketh Antichristes.

FOOTNOTES:

[172] Noctes Atticae, translated by Belue, vol. i. p. 86. The Historie of Papyrius Praetextatus is related in the 18th Novel of the 1st Tome of Painter's Palace of Pleasure.

[173] Deceit, or what would now be called a white lie.

[174] i.e. which of the two.



+ Of the corrupte man of lawe. xxii.

+ There was a man of lawe, whiche on a tyme shulde be iudge betwene a poure man and a ryche: the poure man came, and gaue hym a glasse of oyle (whiche was as moche as his power wold stretche to) and desyred, that he wolde be good in his matter. Yes, quod he, the matter shall passe[175] with the. The riche man, perceyuynge that, sente to the same iudge a fatte hogge, and prayed hym to be fauorable on his syde. Wherfore he gaue iudgement agaynst the poure man. Whan the poure man sawe that he was condemned, pytously complaynyng he sayd to the Judge: syr, I gaue you a glasse of oyle, and ye promysed by your faith, the matter shulde passe with me. To whom the iuge sayde: for a trouth there came a hogge into my house, whiche founde the glasse of oyle, and ouerthrewe and brake it: and so through spyllynge of the oyle I cleane forgot the.

Wherby ye may se, that euermore amonge The ryche hath his wyll, the pore taketh wronge.

FOOTNOTES:

[175] Go easily.



+ Of kynge Lowes of France, and the husbandman. xxiii.

+ What tyme kynge Lowes of Fraunce, the xi of that name, bycause of the trouble that was in the realme, kepte hym selfe in Burgoyne, he chaunced by occasion of huntinge to come acqueynted with one Conon a homely husbande man, and a plaine meanynge felowe, in whiche maner of men the hygh princes greatly delyte them. To this man's house the kynge ofte resorted from huntynge. And with great pleasure he wolde eate radysshes rotes with hym. Within a whyle after, whan Lowes was restored home, and had the gouernaunce of France in his hande, this husbandeman was counsailed by his wyfe to take a goodiy sorte of radysshe rotes and to go and gyue them to the kyng, and put him in mind of the good chere, that he had made hym at his house. Conon wolde nat assente therto. What folysshe woman! quod he, the greate princes remembre nat suche smalle pleasures. But for all that she wolde not reste, tyll Conon chose out a great syght[176] of the fayrest rootes, and toke his iourney towarde the courte. But as he went by the way, he yete vp all the radysshes save one of the greattest.

Conon peaked[177] into the courte, and stode where the kynge shulde passe by: By and by the kynge knewe hym, and called hym to hym. Conon stepte to the kynge and presented his rote with a gladde chere. And the kynge toke it more gladly, and bad one, that was nerest to hym, to laye it vp amonge those iewels that he best loued; and than commaunded Conon to dyne with hym. Whan dyner was done, he thanked Conon: and whan the kyng sawe that he wolde departe home, he commaunded to gyue hym a thousande crownes of golde for his radisshe rote. Whan this was knowen in the kinges house, one of the court gaue the kyng a propre mynion[178] horse. The king, perceiuing that he dyd it, bicause of the liberalite shewed vnto Conon, with very glad chere he toke the gyft, and counsailed with his lordes, howe and with what gyft he myght recompence the horse, that was so goodly and faire. This meanewhile the picke-thank had a meruailous great hope, and thought in his mynde thus: if he so wel recompensed the radysshe rote, that was gyuen of a rusticall man, howe moche more largely wyl he recompence suche an horse, that is gyuen of me that am of the courte? Whan euery man had sayde hys mynde, as though the kynge had counsayled aboute a great weyghty matter, and that they hadde longe fedde the pycke thanke with vayne hope, at last the kyng sayd: I remembre nowe, what we shal gyue hym; and so he called one of his lordes, and badde hym in his eare go fetche hym that that he founde in his chambre (and told hym the place where) featly[179] folded vp in sylke. Anone he came and brought the radysshe roote, and euen as it was folded vp, the kyng with his owne hand gaue it to the courtier, sayenge: we suppose your horse is well recompensed with this iewell, for it hath cost vs a thousande crownes. The courtier went his way neuer so glad, and whan he had vnfolded it, he found none other treasure but the radysshe rote almoste wethered.[180]

FOOTNOTES:

[176] This old phrase is still in colloquial use. "A good sight better," or a "great sight more," are well understood terms among us, though vulgar.

[177] A rare word as a verb, though the adjective peakish is common enough in old English writers. By peaked we must understand "stole" or got admission by stealth.

[178] A literal rendering of the Fr. mignon, delicate or dainty.

[179] Neatly.

[180] The germ of this and the fallowing story may be found in Lane's Arabian Tales and Anecdotes, p. 112.



+ Of an other picke-thanke, and the same kinge. xxiiii.

+ Vpon a time a seruant of the fornamed kinges, seynge a louce crepe vpon the kynges robe, kneled downe and put vp his hande, as though he wolde do somwhat, and as the kynge bowed hym self a lyttell, the man toke the louce, and conueyed her away priuely. The kynge asked hym what it was, but he was ashamed to shew. So moche the kyng instanted[181] hym, that at laste he confessed hit was a louce. Oh! quod the kynge, it is good lucke: for this declareth me to be a man. For that kynde of vermyne principally greueth mankynde, specially in youth. And so the kynge commanded to gyue him fyfty crownes for his labour.

Nat longe after, an other, seynge that the kynge gaue so good a rewarde for so smalle a pleasure, came and kneled downe, and put vp his hande, and made as though he toke and conueyed some what priuelye awaye. And whan the kynge constrayned him to tell what hit was, with moche dissemblyng shamfastnes he sayd, hit was a flee. The kynge, perceyuinge his dissimulation, sayd to him: what, woldest thou make me a dogge? and so for his fifty crownes, that he prooled[182] for, the kinge commaunded to gyue him fiftye strypes.

Wherby ye may note, that there is great difference betwene one that doth a thynge of good will and mynde, and hym that doth a thynge by crafte and dissymulation; whiche thinge this noble and moste prudent prince well vnderstode. And one ought to be well ware[183] howe he hath to do with highe princes and their busynes. And if Ecclesiast[es] forbid, that one shall mynde none yll to a kynge, howe shulde any dare speake yll?

FOOTNOTES:

[181] Importuned.



+ Of Thales the astronomer that fell in a ditch. xxv.

+ Laertius wryteth,[184] that Thales Milesius wente oute of his house vpon a time to beholde the starres for a certayn cause: and so longe he went backeward, that he fell plumpe in to a ditche ouer the eares; wherfore an olde woman, that he kepte in his house laughed and sayde to him in derision: O Thales, how shuldest thou haue knowlege in heuenly thinges aboue, and knowest nat what is here benethe vnder thy feet?

FOOTNOTES:

[182] Prowled.

[183] Careful.

[184] Diogenes Laertius (Lives of the Philosophers, translated by Yonge. 1853, p. 18).



+ Of the astronomer that theues robbed. xxvi.

+ As an astronomer that satte vpon a tyme in the market place of a certayne towne, and toke vpon him to dyuine and to shewe what theyr fortunes and chaunses shuld be, that came to him: there came a felow and tolde him (as it was in deede) that theues had broken in to his house, and had borne away all that he hadde. These tidinges greued him so sore, that all hevy and sorowefullye he rose vp and wente his waye. Whan the felowe sawe him do so, he sayde: O thou folissh and madde man, goest thou aboute to dyuine other mennes matters, and arte ignorant in thine owne?

This tale (besyde the blynde errour of suche foles) toucheth them, that handell theyr owne matters lewdly, and wyll entermedle in other mens. And Cicero saythe: That wyse man, that can nat profytte him selfe, hath but lytell wysdome.



+ Of the plough man that sayde his pater noster. xxvii.

+ A rude vplandisshe ploughman, on a tyme[185] reprouynge a good holy father sayd, that he coude saye all his prayers with a hole mynde and stedfaste intention, without thinkyng on any other thynge. To whome the good holy man sayde: Go to, saye one Pater noster to the ende, and thynke on none other thinge, and I wyll gyue the myn horse. That shall I do, quod the plough man, and so began to saye: Pater noster qui es in celis, tyll he came to Sanctificetur nomen tuum, and than his thought moued him to aske this question: yea, but shal I haue the sadil and bridel withal? And so he lost his bargain.

FOOTNOTES:

[185] The orig. reads whiche on a tyme. I have therefore ventured to strike out the unnecessary word.



+ Of him that dreamed he fonde golde. xxviii.

+ There was a man, that sayde in company vpon a tyme, howe he dreamed on a nyghte, that the deuyll ledde him in to a felde to dygge for golde. Whan he had founde the golde, the deuyll sayde: Thou canste not carye hit a waye nowe, but marke the place, that thou mayste fetche hit an other tyme. What marke shall I make, quod the man? S**** ouer hit, quod the deuyl: for that shall cause euery man to shonne the place, and for the hit shall be a speciall knowlege. The man was contente, and dyd so. So whan he awaked oute of his slepe, he parceyued, that he had foule defyled his bedde. Thus betwene stynke and dyrte vp he rose, and made him redy to go forth: and laste of all he put on his bonette, wherin also the same nighte the catte hadde s***; For great stinke wherof he threwe away his couer knaue,[186] and was fayne to wasshe his busshe.[187] Thus his golden dreame tournedde all to dyrte.[188]

Tibullus sayth: Dreames in the nyght begylen, and cause fearefull myndes to drede thynges that neuer shalbe. But yet Claudian sayeth: Dreames in sondrye wyse fygured gyueth warnynge of vnluckye thynges. And Valerius Maximus wryteth that, as Hamylcar besiged the cyte of Syracuse, he dreamed, that he harde a voyce saye, that he the nexte daye shulde suppe with in the cyte. Wherfore he was ioyfull, as thoughe the victorye from heuen had ben to him promised. And so [he] apparayled his hooste to assaute the towne: in whiche assaute he chaunced to be taken in his lodgynge by them of the cyte, and so bounden lyke a prysoner, they ledde hym in to theyr cite. Thus he more disceyued by hope, than by his dreme, supped that nyghte within the citie as a prisoner, and nat as a conquerour, as he presumed in his mynde. Alcibiades also hadde a certayne vision in the nyghte of his miserable ende.

This tale sheweth that dreames sometyme come to passe by one meane or other. And he that desyreth to knowe more of dreames wrytten in our englysshe tonge, let hym rede the tale of the nounnes preste, that G. Chauser wrote: and for the skeles howe dreames and sweuens[189] are caused, the begynnynge of the Boke of Fame, the whiche the sayde Chauser compiled with many an other matter full of wysedome.

FOOTNOTES:

[186] A cant term for a bonnet.

[187] Thick bushy hair.

[188] See Brand's Popular Antiquities, ed. 1849, iii. 132, where Brand cites Melton's Astrologaster, or the Figure-Caster, 1620, to show that to dream of the devil and of gold was deemed an equally lucky portent. To dream of gold is also pronounced a happy omen in the Countryman's Counsellor. 1633.



+ Of the crakynge yonge gentyll man, that wold ouerthrowe his enmyes a myle of. xxix.

+ A yonge gentyl man in a cite that was beseged, rebuked the other and called them cowherdes, bycause they wolde nat issue out and fight with their enmyes. So he armed at all peces lepte on horsebacke, and galopte out at the gates. Whan he, thus crakynge,[190] hadde prycked on aboute a myle, he encountred with manye, that retourned home from the skyrmysshe sore wounded; wherfore he beganne to ryde a softer pace. But whan he harde the hydous noyse, and sawe a myle frome hym howe fyerslye they of the citie and theyr enmyes assayled eche other, he stode euen stylle. Than one, that harde his crakynge before, asked hym, why he rode no nere[r] to fyghte with their enmyes. He answered and sayde: Trewly I fynde nat my selfe so able and stronge in armes, that my harte wyl serue me to ryde any nere[r] to them.

Wherby may be noted, that nat onely the force of the mynde, but also of the body, shulde be wel consydred. Nor one shulde nat bragge and bost to do more than he maye welle atcheue. There be many, whiche with their wordes slee[191] theyr enmyes a great waye of, but whan they se theyr enmye, they put on a sure breste plate and a gorget of a myle of lengthe. Plutarche wryteth that, whan Memnon made warre for Darius agaynste Alexander, he harde one of his souldyours crake and speake many yll wordes agaynst Alexander; wherfore he rapte hym on the pate with a iauelynge, sayenge: I hyred the to fyght agaynste Alexandre, and not to crake and prate.

Otherwhyle sayth Quintus Curtius, the couetousnes of glory and insaciable desire of fame causeth, that we thynke nothing ouermoche or ouer hard. But Salust saith: Before a man enterprise any feate, he ought fyrst to counsayle: and after to go in hande there with nat heedlynge[192] nor slowly.

FOOTNOTES:

[189] Dreams. Thus Chaucer, in the opening lines of the House of Fame (called in the old editions and in the present text the Boke of Fame), says:—

"God turne us every dreme to goode! For hyt is wonder thing, be the roode, To my wytte, what causeth swevenes Eyther on morwes, or on evenes."

For examples of the later use of the word, see Nares by Halliwell and Wright, art. Sweven.

[190] Boasting.

[191] Singer reads flee.



+ Of hym that fell of a tre and brake his rybbe. xxx.

+ There was a husbande man whiche, on a tyme, as he clymbed a tree to gette downe the frute, felle and brake a rybbe in his syde. To comforte hym there came a very merye man whiche, as they talked to gether sayde, he wolde teache hym suche a rule that, if he wold folowe it, he shuld neuer falle from tree more. Marye, sayde the hurte man, I wolde ye hadde taught me that rule before I felle: neuer the lesse, bycause it may happe to profyte me in tyme to come, lette me here what it is. Than the other sayd: Take hede, that thou go neuer downe faster than thou wentest vp, but discende as softly as thou clymmest vp; and so thou shalt neuer fall.

By this tale ye may note, that abidyng and slownesse otherwhile are good and commendable, specially in those thynges, wherin spede and hastines cause great hurte and damage. Seneca saythe: A sodayne thynge is nought.

FOOTNOTES:

[192] Headlong.



+ Of the frier that brayde in his sermon. xxxi.

+ A fryer, that preached to the people on a tyme, wolde otherwhyle crie out a loude (as the maner of some fooles is) whiche brayenge dyd so moue a woman that stode herynge his sermone, that she wepte. He, parceyuyng that, thought in his mynde her conscience being prycked with his wordes had caused her to wepe. Wherfore, whan his sermon was done, he called the woman to hym, and asked what was the cause of her wepynge, and whether his wordes moued her to wepe or nat? Forsoth, mayster (sayde she), I am a poure wydowe: and whan myne husbande dyed, he lefte me but one asse, whiche gotte parte of my lyuynge, the whiche asse the wolues haue slayne: and nowe, whan I hard your hyghe voyce, I remembred my selye asse: for so he was wonte to braye bothe nyghte and daye. And this, good mayster, caused me to wepe. Thus the lewde brayer, rather than preacher, confuted with his folysshenes, wente his way; which, thinkynge for his brayenge lyke an asse to be reputed for the beste preacher, deserued well to here hym selfe to be compared to an asse.

For truely one to suppose hym selfe wyse Is vnto folysshenes the very fyrste gryce.[193]



+ The oration of the ambassadour sent to Pope Urban. xxxii.

+ Out of the towne of Parusyn were sente vpon a tyme thre ambassadours vnto our holye father Pope Urban, whom they founde sycke in his bed. Before whose holynes one of the sayde ambassadours had a longe and a tedious oration, that he had deuysed by the way; the whiche, er it was ended, ryght sore anoyed the popes holynesse. Whan he hadde all sayde, the pope asked: Is there anye thynge elles? An other of the thre, percevuynge howe greately the ambagious[194] tale greued the popes holynes to here it out, sayde: Moost holy father, this is all the effece, and if your holynes spede vs nat forthewith, my felowe shall telle his tale agayne. At whiche sayenge the pope laughed, and caused the ambassadours to be spedde incontinent.

By this tale one maye lerne, that superfluous wordes ought dilygently to be auoyded, specially where a matter is treated before an hygh prince.

FOOTNOTES:

[193] Step, from the Latin grassus or gressus.

[194] Circumlocutory.—SINGER.



+ Of the ambassadour sent to the prince Agis. xxxiii.

+ Nat moch vnlike the forsayd tale, Plutarche reciteth that, whan the ambassadour of the Abderites had at laste ended a longe tale to the prynce Agis, he asked what answere he shulde make to them that sent him? Say vnto them (quod the prince), whan thou comest home, that all the longe tyme that thou didest dispende in tellynge thy tale, I sate styll and harde the paciently.



+ The answere of Cleomenes to the Samiens ambassadour. xxxiiii.

+ Plutarche rehersethe also, that what tyme an ambassadour, that was sente frome the Samiens, had made a longe oration vnto Cleomines, to perswade him to make warre to Polycrates, he answered the ambassadour on this maner of wyse: I remembre nat, what thou sayddest in the begynnyng of thy tale, and therfore I vnderstand nat the myddis; and thy conclusion pleaseth me nat.

Wherby we may perceyue, that the noble wyse men loue fewe wordes. And as the Rhetoriciens say: amonge the vices of an oratoure, there is none more hurtefull than the superfluous heape of wordes.



+ Of the wyse man Piso and his seruant. xxxv.

+ A certayn wise man called Piso, to auoyde greuous ianglynge, commaunded that his seruauntes shulde saye nothinge, but answere to that that thei were demaunded, and no more. Vpon a daye the sayde Piso made a dyner, and sente a seruaunt to desire Clodius the Consull to come and dyne with him. Aboute the houre of diner al the guestes came saue Clodius, for whom they taryed tyll hit was almoste nyght, and euer sente to loke if he came. At laste Piso sayde to his seruaunt: diddest thou byd the Consull come to dyner? Yes, truely, sayde he. Why cometh he nat than, quod Piso? Mary, quod the seruaunt, he sayde he wolde nat. Wherfore toldest me nat so incontinent, quod Piso? Bycause, quod the seruaunt, ye dyd nat aske me.

By this tale, seruauntes may lerne to kepe theyr maisters biddyng: but yet I aduise maysters therby to take hede, howe they make an iniunction.



+ Of the marchant that made a wager with his lord. xxxvi.

+ A certayne marchaunt, before his lorde that he was subiecte vnto, amonge other thynges praysed his wyfe, and sayde, that he neuer harde her lette a *****. Wherat the lorde meruailed, and sayd it was impossible: and so layde and ventred a souper with the marchant, that before thre monethes were ended, he shulde here her lette a ***** or twayne. On the morowe, the lorde came to the marchaunt, and borowed fyfty crownes, the whiche he promysed trewely to repay agayne within viij dayes after. The marchaunt ryght sore agaynst his wylle lent it, and thoughtfully abode, tyll the daye of payment was come: and than he wente to his lorde and requyred his moneye. The lorde, makynge as though he had hadde more nede than before, desyred the marchaunt to lende hym other fyftye crownes, and promysed to paye all within a monethe. And all though the good man denyed hit longe, yet for feare lest he shulde lose the first somme, with moche grutchynge he lente hym the other fyfty crownes. And so wente home to his house ryghte heuye and sorowfull in his mynde. Thus thynkynge and dredynge diuers thynges, he passed many nyghtes awaye without slepe. And as he laye wakyng, he harde his wyfe nowe and than rappe out *****. At the monethes' ende the lorde sente for the marchant, and asked him, if he neuer sythe harde his wyfe let a *****. The marchant aknoweleginge his folye, answered thus: Forsothe, syr, if I shulde for euery ***** paye a souper, all my goodes and landes wolde nat suffice therto. After whiche answere, the lorde payde the marchant his money, and the marchant payde the souper.

Here by ye maye se, that many thinges passe by them that slepe, and it is an old sayenge: He that slepeth, byteth no body. By this tale ye may note also that they, the whiche fortune swetelye enbraceth, take theyr reste and slepe soundely; And contrarye wyse, they that bene oppressed with aduersite, watche sorowefullye whan they shulde slepe. This man, which for a very folisshe thing preysed his wyfe, afterwarde whan a lyttell care beganne to crepe aboute his stomacke, he perceiued that faute in her ryght great. The morall boke, called Cato,[195] counsayleth vs to watche for the more parte: For moche slomber and slepe is the norisshinge of vice.

FOOTNOTES:

[195] Vide supra, p. 22.



+ Of the friere that gaue scrowes agaynst the pestilence. xxxvii.

+ Amonge the limitours[196] in the cyte of Tiburtine (Tivoli), was a certayne friere, which vsed to preache about in the villages to men of the countrey: and for as moch as they greately suspecte[d] that a plague of pestilence shulde come amonge them, he promysed eche of them a lytell scrowe:[197] which he sayde was of suche a vertue, that who so euer bare hit hangynge aboute his necke xv dayes shulde nat dye of the pestilence. The folisshe people trustynge herevpon, euerye one after his power gaue him money for a scrowe; and with a threde of a mayden's spynninge, they hanged hit aboute their neckes. But he charged them that they shuld nat open it tyll the xv dayes ende: for, if they did, he sayde hit had no vertue. So whan the frire hadde gathered moche moneye, he wente his waye. Soone after (as the desyre of folkes is to knowe newes) the sayd scrowes were redde, in which was writen in Italian speche:

Donna, si fili et cadeti lo fuso, Quando ti pieghi, tieni lo culo chiuso.[198]

Which is to saye in englysshe: woman, if thou spynne, and thy spyndell falle awaye, whan thou stoupest to reache for him, holde thyne **** close. He sayde, that this passed all the preceptes and medicines of the phisitians.

By whiche tale one may lerne, that all is nat gospell that suche wanderers about saye, nor euerye word to be beleued: For often tymes:—

Gelidus jacet anguis in herba.

FOOTNOTES:

[196] A word used by Chaucer. It signifies a person licensed to preach and beg within a certain limit. There was an order of mendicant friars.

"Lordings, ther is in Engelond, I gesse, A mersschly land called Holdernesse, In which there went a lymytour aboute, To preche and eek to begge, it is no doubte."

CHAUCER'S Sompnour's Tale; Works, ed. Bell. ii. 103.

[197] Scrowl.



+ Of the phisitian, that vsed to write bylles ouer eue. xxxviii.

+ A certayne phisitian of Italy vsed ouer night to write for sondry diseasis diuers billes, called resceitz, and to put them in a bag al to gether. In the morning whan the vrins (as the custome is) were brought to him, and he [was] desired to showe some remedy, he wolde put his hand in to the bag, and at al auentures take oute a bille. And in takinge oute the bille he wolde say to him that came to seke remedye in their language: Prega dio te la mandi bona. That is to saye: Praye God to sende the a good one.

By this tale ye may se, that miserable is their state whiche fortune muste helpe and nat reason. Suche a phisitian on a tyme sayde to Pausanias: Thou aylest nothinge. No, sayde he, I haue nat had to do with thy phisicke. And an other tyme a frende of his sayde: Syr, ye ought not to blame that phisitian: for his phisicke dyd you neuer hurte. Thou sayest trouthe, quod he: for, if I hadde proued his phisicke, I shulde nat nowe haue been alyue. And ageyne to an other that sayde: Syr, ye be an olde man, he answered: yea, thou were nat my phisitian. Such maner [of] checkes are to lyttell for the leude foles, that wyll practise phisicke, before they knowe what [be]longeth to theyr name.

FOOTNOTES:

[198] In orig. and in Singer this is printed as prose, according to the usual practice. The same is the case with the line below.



+ Of hym that wolde confesse hym by writinge. xxxix.

+ Ther was a yonge man on a tyme, which wrote a longe lybell[199] of his synnes; whether he did hit for hypocrisy, folysshenesse, or oblyuion I can not say: and whan he shulde confesse him, he gaue hit to the confessour to rede: whiche confessor, beinge well lerned and experte in that busynes, parceyued hit wolde requyre a longe tyme to rede ouer: wherfore after a fewe wordes he sayde: I assoyle the frome all the synnes conteyned in this lybell. Yea, but what shall my penaunce be, quod the yonge man? Nothinge els, sayde the confessour, but that thou shalte the space of a moneth rede this lybell ouer euery daye vii tymes. And all thoughe he sayde it was impossyble for him to do, yet the confessour wolde nat chaunge his sentence. By which mery subtyle answere he confuted the breble brable[200] of the folysshe felowe.

By this tale ye may perceyue that he that occupyeth this office, that is to saye, a confessour, ought to be discrete, prudent, and well lernedde. This confessour knewe well the ordinaunce of holye churche: whiche wylleth confession to be made with the mouthe, and nat by wrytynge.

FOOTNOTES:

[199] Narrative or account. In its original signification, libel merely implied libellus, a little book or volume, a pamphlet, but not necessarily one of an offensive kind.



+ Of the hermite of Padowe. xl.

+ An hermite of Padow,[201] that was reputed for an holy man, vnder the semblaunce of confession, entyced many of the notablest wyues of the towne vnto folye and lewednes. So at last, whan his offence was dyuulgate and knowen (for hypocrisy can nat longe be hid) he was taken by the prouost, and brought before the prince of Padowe, duke Francis the vii of that name, whiche for his disporte sent for his secretarye, to wryte the womens names, that the hermit had layen by. Whan the hermyte had rehersed manye of the dukes seruantes wyues, and the secretarye merely laughenge had writen them, he semed as he had al said. Be there any mo, sayde the duke? No forsothe, said the hermite. Tel vs trouth, quod the secretarie, who be mo, or els thou shalte be sharply punisshed. Than the hermyte sighinge said: Go to, write in thin owne wife amonge the nomber of the other; which saienge so sore greued the secretarye, that the penne felle out of his hande and the duke laughed right hartily, and sayde it was well done: that he that with so great pleasure harde the fautes of other mennes wyues, shulde come in the same nombre.

By this ieste we may lerne, that one ought nat to reioyce at an others grefe or hurte: For lytell woteth a man what hangeth ouer his owne heed.

FOOTNOTES:

[200] Silly and licentious talk. Taylor the Water-Poet, at the end of his Wit and Mirth, 1622 (Works, 1630, folio I. p. 200), uses the expression Ribble-rabble of Gossips, which seems to be a phrase of very similar import.

[201] Padua.



+ Of the Uplandysshe man, that sawe the kynge. xli.

+ An vplandysshe man, nourysshed in the woddes, came on a tyme to the citie, whanne all the stretes were full of people, and the common voyce amonge them was: The kynge cometh. This rurall manne, moued with noueltie of that voyce, had great desyre to se, what that multitude houed[202] to beholde. Sodaynly the kynge, with many nobuls and states before hym, came rydynge royally. Than the people all about stedfastly behelde the kynge and cryed aloude: God saue the kynge: God saue the kynge. This villayne[203] herynge them crye so, sayde: O where is the kynge, where is the kynge? Than one, shewynge hym the kynge, sayde: yonder is he, that rydeth upon the goodly whyte horse. Is that the kyng, quod the villayne? what, thou mockest me, quod he; me thinke that is a man in a peynted garment.

By this tale ye may perceyue (as Lycurgus proued by experience) that nourysshynge, good bryngynge vp and exercyse ben more apte to leade folke to humanite and the doynge of honest thynges than Nature her selfe. They for the mooste part are noble, free, and vertuous, whiche in their youthe bene well nourysshed vp, and vertuously endoctryned.

FOOTNOTES:

[202] Hovered. This form of the word is used by Gower and Spenser. See Nares (ed. 1859), voce Hove.

[203] Rustic.



+ Of the courtier that bad the boy holde his horse. xlii.

+ A courtier on a tyme that alyghted of his horse at an Inde[204] gate sayde to a boye that stode therby: Ho, syr boye, holde my horse. The boye, as he had ben aferde, answered: O maister, this a fierce horse; is one able to holde him? Yes, quod the courtier, one may holde hym well inough. Well, quod the boye, if one be able inough, than I pray you holde hym your owne selfe.[205]



+ Of the deceytfull scriuener. xliii.

+ A certayne scriuener, whiche hadde but a bare lyuynge by his crafte, imagyned howe he myght gette money. So he came to a yonge man, and asked hym if he were payde x li. whiche a certayne man, that was deade, borowed and ought to paye his father in tyme paste. The yonge manne sayde there was no such duetye[206] owynge in his father's name, that he knewe of. It is of trouthe, quod the scriuener: for here is the oblygacyon therof, whiche I made my selfe. He prouoked the yonge manne so moche, that he gaue hym money for the oblygation, and before the mayre he required the duetie. His sonne, that was named to be dettour, sayde playnely, that his father neuer borowed money: for if he had, it wolde appere by his bokes, after the marchantes' maner. And forth with he went to the scriuener and sayde to him, that he was a false man to write a thing that neuer was done. Sonne, sayde the scriuener, thou wotteste nat what was done that tyme: whan thy father borowed that somme of money, thou were nat borne: but he payde it agayne within thre monthes after, I made the quittance therof my selfe: wherby thy father is discharged. So the yonge man was faine to gyue hym money for the quittaunce. And whan he had shewed the quittaunce he was discharged of that greuance. Thus by his faire fraude he scraped money from them bothe.

By this tale ye may se, that the children in this our tyme be very prudent to get money.

FOOTNOTES:

[204] Inn.

[205] See Introduction vi.

[206] Debt.



+ Of hym that saide he beleued his wyfe better than other, that she was chaste. xliiii.

+ A Certayne man, whose wyfe (as the voyce wente) was nat very chaste of her bodye, was warned of his frendes to loke better to the matter. The man wente home and sharpely rebuked his wyfe, and told her betwene them bothe, what his frendes had sayde. She, knowynge that periurye was no greatter offence than aduoutry,[207] with wepynge and swerynge defended her honestie: and bare her husbande on hande, that they feyned those tales for enuye that they hadde to se them lyue so quietly. With those wordes her husbande was content and pleased. So yet an other tyme agayne, his frendes warned him of his wyfe, and badde hym rebuke and chastice her. To whome he sayd: I pray you trouble me no more with suche wordes. Telle me, whether knoweth better my wiue's fautes, you or she? They sayde: She. And she (quod he), whom I beleue better than you all, sayth playnly, that ye lye. This was well and wysely done: For one ought nat to gyue light credence to those thinges, wherin resteth perpetuall grefe of mynde.

FOOTNOTES:

[207] Adultery. The word occurs in Bacon's Essays. In his Essay of Empire, the writer says:—"This kind of danger is then to be feared chiefly when the wives have plots for the raising of their own children, or else that they be advoutresses." Sir Simonds D'Ewes, in his account of the murder of Sir Thomas Overbury, in 1613, describes the Countess of Essex as "Somerset's advoutress" (Autobiography and Correspondence of Sir Simonds D'Ewes, ed. Halliwell, I. 74).



+ Of hym that payde his dette with crienge bea. xlv.

+ There was a man on a tyme, which toke as moche ware of a marchaunt, as drewe to fyftie li. and riottously playde and spente the same awaye within shorte space. So whanne the day of payemente came, he hadde nother[208] moneye nor ware to paye: wherfore he was arrested, and muste come before the Justyce; whan he sawe there was none other remedye, but that he shulde be constrayned eyther to pay the dette, or else to go to prison. Wherfore he went to a subtyle man of lawe, and shewed to hym his matter, and desyred of hym[209] his counsayle and helpe. What wylt thou gyue me (quod the man of lawe), if I rydde the of this dette? By my faythe, sayde the dettour, v marke: and lo, here it is redy; as sone as I am quitte, ye shall haue hit. Good inough, quod the man of lawe; but thou muste be ruled by my counsaile, and thus do. Whan thou comest before the Justice, what som euer be saye[210] vnto the, loke that thou answere to nothing, but cry bea styl: and lette me alone with the reste. Content, quod he.

So, whan they were com before the Justice, he said to the dettour: doste thou owe this marchant this somme of money or no? Bea! quod he. What beste! (quod the Justice) answere to thy plaint, orels thou wilte be condemned. Bea! quod he agayne. Than his man of lawe stode forth, and sayd: Sir, this man is but an ideot. Who wolde beleue that this marchaunt, whiche is both wyse and subtyle, wolde truste this ideot, that can speke neuer a redy worde, of xl peny worth of ware? and so with suche reasons he perswaded the Justyce to caste the marchaunt in his owne action. So whan the sentence was gyuen, the man of lawe drewe the dettour asyde, and said: Lo, howe sayst thou nowe? Haue not I done well for the? Thou arte clere quitte of the dette that was demanded of the: wherfore giue me my money, and God be with the. Bea! quod he. What, quod the laweer, thou nedest not to crie bea no longer; thy matter is dispatched; all is at a poynt, there resteth nothynge but to gyue me my wages, that thou promysyddest. Bea! quod he agayne. I saye, quod the man of lawe, crie bea no longer nowe, but gyue me my money. Bea! quod he. Thus the man of lawe, neyther for fayre nor foule, coulde gette any other thinge of his client but Bea: wherfore all angerly he departed, and went his waye.

By this tale ye may perceyue, that they whiche be the inuenters and diuisers of fraude and disceit, ben often times therby deceyued them selfe. And he, that hath hyd a snare to attrap an other with, hath hym selfe ben taken therin.

FOOTNOTES:

[208] An old form of neither.

[209] In orig. desired him of.

[210] Orig. reads sayd.



+ Of the woman that appeled fro kyng Philip to kynge Philippe. xlvi.

+ A woman, whiche [was] gyltlesse, on a tyme was condempned by kynge Philippe of Macedone, whan he was not sobre: wherfore she sayde: I appele. Whether,[211] quod the kynge? To kynge Philippe, quod she; but that is whan he is more sobre and better aduysed; whiche sayenge caused the kynge to loke better on the matter, and to do her ryght.

This wryteth Val. Maximus. But Plutarche sayth, it was a man, and kynge Philip was halfe a slepe, whan he gaue sentence.

FOOTNOTES:

[211] Whither.



+ Of the olde woman, that prayde for the welfare of the tyrant Denise. xlvii.

+ What tyme Denyse[212] the tyranne raygned, for his cruelte and intollerable dealynge he was hated of all the[213] cite of Syracuse, and euery body wysshed his dethe, saue one olde woman, the whiche euery morning praid God to saue him in good life and helth. Whan he vnderstode that she so dyd, he meruailed greatly at her vndeserued beniuolence: wherfore he sente for her, and asked, why and howe he had deserued, that she prayde for hym? She answered and sayd: I do it nat with out a cause. For, whan I was a mayde, we had a tyran raignynge ouer us, whose death I greatly desyred; whan he was slayne, there succided an other yet more cruell than he, out of whose gouernance to be also deliuered I thought it a hygh benifyte. The thyrde is thy selfe, that haste begon to raygne ouer vs more importunately[214] than either of the other two. Thus, fearynge leest, whan thou arte gone, a worse shuld succede and reigne ouer vs, I praye God dayly to preserue the in helthe.

FOOTNOTES:

[212] Dionysius.

[213] Orig. reads che.

[214] Importunate seems to be used here in the sense of oppressive or overbearing.



+ Of the phisitian Eumonus. xlviii.

+ A phisitian called Eumonus tolde a sicke man, that laye in great payne, that he coulde nat scape, but he muste nedes dye of that disese. This sicke man within a whyle after, nat by the phisitians helpe, but by the wille of God, guerysshed[215] and was holle of his disease: howe be hit, he was verye lowe and bare[216] broughte. And as he walked forth on a daye, he met the same phisytian, whiche, doubtynge whether hit were the same sycke man or nat, sayd: Arte nat thou Gaius? yes, truelye, quod he. Arte thou alyue or deed, sayde the phisitian? I am deed, quod he. What doste thou here than, said the phisitian? Bycause, quod he, that I haue experience of many thinges, God hath commanded me that I shulde come and take vp all the phisitians that I can get, to him. Whiche sayenge made Eumonus as pale as asshes for fere. Than Gaius sayd to him: drede thou nat, Eumonus, thoughe I sayd all phisitians: for there is no man that hath wytte, that wylle take the for one.

FOOTNOTES:

[215] Fr. "guerir," to heal.

[216] Poor, or, perhaps, poorly.



+ Of Socrates and his scoldinge wyfe. xlix.

+ Laertius wryteth, that the wyse man Socrates had a coursed scoldinge wyfe, called Xantippe, the whiche on a daye after she hadde alto[217] chydde him powred a * * * * * potte on his heed. He, takynge all paciently, sayde: dyd nat I tell you that, whan I herde Xantippe thonder so fast, that it wolde rayne anone after?

Wherby ye maye se, that the wyser a man is, the more pacience he taketh. The wyse poet Virgil sayth: all fortune by suffrance must be ouercome.



+ Of the phisitian that bare his paciente on honde, he had eaten an asse. l.

+ A Phisitian, which had but smalle lerning, vsed whan he came to viset his pacientes to touche the pulce; and if any appayred, he wolde lay the blame on the paciente, and beare him on hande,[218] that he did eate fygges, apples, or some other thinge that he forbade: and bicause the pacientes other whyle confessed the same, they thought he had ben a very connynge man. His seruante hadde great maruayle, howe he parceyued that, and desyred his mayster to telle hym, whether he knewe hit by touching of the pulce, orels by some other hygher knowlege. Than sayde his mayster: for the good seruice that thou haste done me, I wyll open to the this secrete point. Whan I come in to the pacientes chamber, I loke al a bout: and, if I spye in the flore shales,[219] parynge of chese, of aples, or of peares, or any other scrappes, anone I coniecte,[220] that the paciente hath eaten thereof. And so to th' ende I wold be blameles, I lay the faute on theyr mysdiettynge.

Nat longe after, the same seruaunte toke on hym to practise physike, whyche in lyke maner blamed his pacientes, and sayde, that they kepte nat the diete that he gaue them; and he bare them on hande that they yete some what, wherof he sawe the scrappes in the flore. On a tyme he cam to a poure man of the countre, and promysed to make him hole, if he wolde be gouerned after him, and sa gaue him to drinke I wote nat what, and went his waye tyll on[221] the morowe. Whan he came agayne, he founde the man sicker than euer he was. The rude fole, nat knowinge the cause, behelde here and there aboute, and whan he coude se no skrappes nor parynges, he was sore troubled in his mynde. So at the last he espied a saddel vnder the bed. Than said he all a loude, that he hadde at length parceyued, howe the sicke man enpayred: he hath so excessiuely passed diete (quod he), that I wonder he is nat deed. How so, quod they? Marye, quod he, ye haue made him to eate an holle asse! Lo, where the saddell lyethe yet vnder the bedde. For he thoughte the saddell had be lefte of the asse, as bones are of fleshe. For which folysshnes he was well laughed to skorne and mocked.

Thus as a good faythfull phisitian is worthy of greate honour: for truely of hym dependethe the greattest parte of mans helthe, so lyke wyse a folysshe and an vnlerned, that thynkethe to cure with wordes, that he ought to do with herbes, is nat onely worthy to be deryded and mocked, but also punysshed: for nothynge is more perillous.

FOOTNOTES:

[217] Orig. reads all to. We take the true meaning to be alto, as above, i.e. in a loud key.

[218] Delude him with the false notion. To bear on hande, I presume to be synonymous with To bear in hande of the use of which among old authors several examples are furnished by Nares (edit. 1859).

[219] Shells.

[220] Conjecture.

[221] Orig. and Singer read an.



+ Of the inholders[222] wyfe and her ii louers. li.

+ Nere vnto Florence dwelled an inholder, whos wyfe was nat very dangerous[223] of her tayle. Vpon a nyghte as she was a bed with one of her louers, there came a nother to haue lyen with her. Whan she herde him come vp the ladder, she met him, and bade hym go thence, for she hadde no tyme than to fulfylle his pleasure. But for all her wordes he wolde nat go a waye, but stylle preaced[224] to come in. So longe they stode chydinge, that the good man came vpon them, and asked them why they brauled so. The woman, nat unprouyded of a disceytefull answere, sayde: Syr, this man wolde come in per force to slee or myschiefe an other, that is fled in to our house for succoure, and hitherto I haue kepte him backe. Whan he, that was within, herde her saye so, he beganne to plucke vp his harte and say, he wold be a wreked[225] on him withoute. And he that was withoute made a face, as he wolde kylle him that was within. The folysshe man, her husbande, enquered the cause of theyr debate, and toke vpon him to sette them at one.[226] And so the good sely man spake and made the pese betwene them both; yea, and farther he gaue them a gallon of wyne, addynge to his wiues aduoutry the losse of his wine.

FOOTNOTES:

[222] Innkeeper.

[223] Jealous, careful.



+ Of hym that healed franticke men. lii.

+ There dwelled a man in Italy, whiche vsed to heale men, that were franticke, on this maner. He had within his house a gutter, or a ditche, full of water, wherin he wold put them, some to the middell legge, some to the knee, and some dypper, as they were madde.[227] So one that was well amended, and wente aboute the house to do one thinge and other for his meate, as he stode on a tyme at the gate, lokinge in to the strete, he sawe a gentyll man ryde by with a great sorte[228] of haukes and houndes; the which he called to him and said: you gentyll man, whither go ye? On huntynge, quod the gentyll man. What do you with all those kytes and dogges, quod he? They be haukes and houndes, quod the gentyll man. Wherfore kepe you them, quod the other? For my pleasure, quod the gentyl man. What costeth it you a yere to kepe them, quod the other? XL duckettes, quod the gentyll man. And what do they profytte you, quod he? Foure duckettes, quod the gentyll man. Gette the lyghtlye hense, quod the madde man: for, if my mayster come and fynde the here, he wyll put the in to the gutter vp to the throte.

This tale toucheth suche young gentyll menne, that dispende ouer moche good[229] on haukes, houndes, and other trifils.

FOOTNOTES:

[224] Pressed.

[225] Wreaked, revenged.

[226] Reconcile them.

[227] i. e. according to their degree of madness. See Introduction, viii. ix.

[228] Assortment.

[229] Goods



+ Of hym that sayde he was not worthy to open the gate to the kynge. liii.

+ As a kynge of Englande hunted on a tyme in the countie of Kent, he hapte to come rydynge to a great gate, wherby stode a husbande man of the countrey, to whom the kynge sayde: good felowe, putte open the gate. The man perceyuynge it was the kynge, sayde: no, and please your grace, I am nat worthy; but I wyll go fetche Mayster Couper, that dwelleth nat past ij myles hense, and he shal open to you the gate.



+ Of mayster Uauasour and Turpin his man. liiii.

+ Mayster Vauasour,[230] sometyme a iudge of Englande, hadde a seruaunt with hym called Turpin, whiche had done hym seruyce many yeres; wherfore he came vnto his mayster on a tyme, and sayde to hym on this wyse: syr, I haue done you seruice longe; wherfore I pray you gyue me somwhat to helpe me in myn old age. Turpin, quod he, thou sayst trouthe, and hereon I haue thought many a tyme; I wyll tell the, what thou shalt do. Nowe shortly I must ride vp to London; and, if thou wilt beare my costis thether, I wyll surely gyue the suche a thing, that shall be worth to the an hundred pounde. I am contente, quod Turpin. So all the waye as he rode Turpin payd his costis, tyll they came to theyr last lodginge: and there after souper he cam to his mayster and sayde: sir, I haue born your costes hitherto, as ye badde me; nowe, I pray you let me se, what thynge hit is, that shulde be worthe an hundred pounde to me. Dyd I promise the suche a thynge, quod his mayster? ye, forsoth, quod Turpin. Shewe me thy wrytinge, quod maister Vauasour. I haue none, sayde Turpin. Than thou arte lyke to haue nothinge, sayde his maister. And lerne this at me.[231] Whan sa euer thou makest a bargayne with a man, loke that thou take sure wrytynge, and be well ware howe thou makest a writynge to any man. This poynte hath vayled[232] me an hundred pounde in my dayes: and so hit may the. Whan Turpin sawe there was none other remedy, he helde him selfe contente. On the morowe Turpin taryed a lytelle behynde his mayster to reken with the hostes, where they laye, and of her he borowed so moche money on his maysters skarlet cloke, as drewe to[233] all the costes that they spente by the waye. Mayster Vauasour had nat ryden past ii myle but that it began to rayne; wherfore he calledde for his cloke.—His other seruauntes saide, Turpin was behinde, and had hit with him. So they houedde[234] vnder a tre, tylle Turpin ouer toke them. Whan he was come, Mayster Vauasour all angerly sayde: thou knaue, why comest thou nat aweye with my cloke? Syr, and please you, quod Turpin, I haue layde hit to gage[235] for your costes al the waye. Why, knaue, quod his mayster, diddiste thou nat promyse to beare my charges to London? Dyd I, quod Turpin? ye, quod his mayster, that thou diddest. Let se, shew me your wriytinge therof, quod Turpin; wherto his mayster, I thinke, answered but lytell.

FOOTNOTES:

[230] This old Yorkshire family produced several persons eminent in the legal profession from the time of Henry I. downward; but the one here intended was, in all probability, John Vavasour, who became Recorder of York, I Henry VII., and was made a justice of the Common Pleas in August, 1490. See Foss's Judges of England, v. 78, 79.

[231] Of me.

[232] i. e. availed, has been worth L100 to me.



+ Of hym that sought his wyfe agaynst the streme. lv.

+ A man the[re] was whose wyfe, as she came ouer a bridg, fell in to the ryuer and was drowned; wherfore he wente and sought for her vpward against the stream, wherat his neighboures, that wente with hym, maruayled, and sayde he dyd nought, he shulde go seke her downeward with the streme. Naye, quod he, I am sure I shall neuer fynde her that waye: for she was so waywarde and so contrary to euery thynge, while she lyuedde, that I knowe very well nowe she is deed, she wyll go a gaynste the stream.

FOOTNOTES:

[233] i. e. came to, or amounted to, covered.

[234] Hovered, i. e. halted for shelter.

[235] Laid it in pledge.



+ Of hym that at a skyrmyshe defended him with his feet. lvi.

+ A lustye yonge gentyll man of France, that on a tyme was at a skyrmysshe, and defended him selfe valyantly with his feet, came in to the courte, in to a chambre amonge ladies, with a goodly ringe vpon his fynger, to whom a fayre lady sayde: syr, why weare ye that rynge vpon your fynger? Wherfore aske you, madame, quod he? Bycause (sayde she) your feet dyd you better seruice than your handes at the last skyrmysshe that ye were at.

By this tale yonge men may lerne to beare them well and valyantly for drede of reproche. Better is it with worshyp to dye than with shame to lyue, albe hit that Demosthenes sayde: he that fleethe cometh agayne to batayle.



+ Of hym that wolde gyue a songe for his dyner. lvii.

+ There came a felowe on a tyme in to a tauerne, and called for meate. So, whan he had well dyned, the tauerner came to reken and to haue his money, to whom the felowe sayde, he had no money, but I wyll, quod he, contente you with songes. Naye, quod the tauerner, I nede no songes, I must haue money. Whye, quod the felowe, if I synge a songe to your pleasure, will ye nat than be contente? yes, quod the tauerner. So he began, and songe thre or foure balades, and asked if he were pleased? No, sayde the tauerner. Than he opened his pourse, and beganne to synge thus:

Whan you haue dyned make no delaye But paye your oste, and go your waye.

Dothe this songe please you, quod he? Yes, marye, said the tauerner, this pleaseth me well. Than, as couenant was (quod the felowe), ye be paide for your vitaile. And so he departed, and wente his waye.

This tale sheweth, that a man may be to hastye in makynge of a bargayne and couenantynge; and therfore a man ought to take good hede, what he sayth: for one worde may bynde a man to great inconuenience, if the matter be weighty.



+ Of the foole that thought hym selfe deed. lviii.

+ There was a felowe dwellynge at Florence, called Nigniaca, whiche was nat verye wyse, nor all a foole, but merye and iocunde. A sorte[236] of yonge men, for to laughe and pastyme, appoynted to gether to make hym beleue that he was sycke. So, whan they were agreed howe they wolde do, one of them mette hym in the mornynge, as he came out of his house, and bad him good morowe, and than asked him, if he were nat yl at ease? No, quod the foole, I ayle nothynge, I thanke God. By my faith, ye haue a sickely pale colour, quod the other, and wente his waye.

Anone after, an other of them mette hym, and asked hym if he had nat an ague: for your face and colour (quod he) sheweth that ye be very sycke. Than the foole beganne a lyttel to doubt, whether he were sycke or no: for he halfe beleued that they sayd trouth. Whan he had gone a lytel farther, the thyrde man mette hym, and sayde: Jesu! manne, what do you out of your bed? ye loke as ye wolde nat lyue an houre to an ende. Nowe he doubted greatly, and thought verily in his mynde, that he had hadde some sharpe ague; wherfore he stode styll and wolde go no further; and, as he stode, the fourth man came and sayde: Jesu! man, what dost thou here, and arte so sycke? Gette the home to thy bedde: for I parceyue thou canste nat lyue an houre to an ende. Than the foles harte beganne to feynte,[237] and [he] prayde this laste man that came to hym to helpe hym home. Yes, quod he, I wyll do as moche for the as for myn owne brother. So home he brought hym, and layde hym in his bed, and than he fared with hym selfe, as thoughe he wolde gyue vp the gooste. Forth with came the other felowes, and saide he hadde well done to lay hym in his bedde. Anone after, came one whiche toke on hym to be a phisitian; whiche, touchynge the pulse, sayde the malady was so vehement, that he coulde nat lyue an houre. So they, standynge aboute the bedde, sayde one to an other: nowe he gothe his waye: for his speche and syght fayle him; by and by he wyll yelde vp the goste. Therfore lette vs close his eyes, and laye his hands a crosse, and cary hym forth to be buryed. And than they sayde lamentynge one to an other: O! what a losse haue we of this good felowe, our frende?

The foole laye stylle, as one [that] were deade; yea, and thought in his mynde, that he was deade in dede. So they layde hym on a bere, and caryed hym through the cite. And whan any body asked them what they caryed, they sayd the corps of Nigniaca to his graue. And euer as they went, people drew about them. Among the prece[238] ther was a tauerners boy, the whiche, whan he herde that it was the cors of Nigniaca, he said to them: O! what a vile bestly knaue, and what a stronge thefe is deed! by the masse, he was well worthy to haue ben hanged longe ago. Whan the fole harde those wordes, he put out his heed and sayd: I wys, horeson, if I were alyue nowe, as I am deed, I wolde proue the a false lyer to thy face. They, that caryed him, began to laugh so hartilye, that they sette downe the bere, and wente theyr waye.

By this tale ye maye se, what the perswasion of many doth. Certaynly he is very wyse, that is nat inclined to foly, if he be stered therevnto by a multitude. Yet sapience is founde in fewe persones: and they be lyghtly[239] olde sobre men.[240]

FOOTNOTES:

[236] Knot, party.

[237] To grow faint.

[238] Crowd.

[239] Usually. See Nares, edit. 1839, in voce.

[240] This story is to be found in Poggius, who calls it Mortuus Loquens, and from Poggius it was transferred by Grazzini to his collection of Tales, not published till after his death.



+ Of the olde man and his sonne that brought his asse to the towne to sylle. lix.

+ An olde man on a tyme and a lyttell boye his sonne droue a litel asse before them, whiche he purposed to sylle at the markette towne, that they went to. And bicause he so dyd, the folkes that wrought by the way syde, blamed hym; wherfore he set vp his sonne, and went hym selfe on fote. Other, that sawe that, called hym foole, by cause he lette the yonge boye ryde, and he, beynge so aged, to goo a foote. Than he toke downe the boye, and lepte vp and rode hym selfe. Whanne he hadde rydden a lyttell waye, he harde other that blamed hym, bycause he made the lyttell yonge boye ronne after as a seruaunte, and he his father to ryde. Than he sette vppe the boye behynde hym, and so rode forthe.

Anone he mette with other, that asked hym if the asse were his owne, by whiche wordes he coniected, that he did nat wel so to ouercharge the lyttell sely asse, that vnethe[241] was able to beare one. Thus he, troubled with their dyuers and manyfolde opinions; whiche, neither with his asse vacant, nor he alone, nor his sonne alone, nor bothe to gether rydyng at ones on the asse, coulde passe forth with out detraction and blame. Wherfore at last he bounde the asse[s] feet to gether, and put through a staffe; and so he and his sonne began to beare the asse betwene them on their shulders to the towne. The noueltie of whiche syght caused euery body to laughe and blame the folysshenes of them both. The sely olde man was so sore agreued that, as he sat and rested hym on a ryuers syde, he threwe his asse in to the water; and so whan he had drowned his asse he tourned home agayne. Thus the good man, desyrynge to please euerye bodye, contentynge none at all, loste his asse.

By this tale appereth playnelye, that they, whiche commyt them selfe to the opinion of the common people, ben oppressed with great myserye and seruage: for how is it possible to please all, whan euerye man hath a dyuers opinion, and dyuerslye iudgeth and that was well knowen to the poet, whan he sayde:

Scinditur incertum studia in contraria vulgus.

And as Cicero, Persius, and Flaccus say: as many men so many myndes: as many heedes so many wyttes. That, that pleaseth one, displeaseth an other: Fewe alowe that that they loue nat: and that that a man aloweth, he thynketh good. Therfore the beste is, that euery man liue well, as a good Christen man shulde, and care nat for the vayne wordes and ianglynge of the people. For bablynge (as Plutarchus sayth) is a greuous disease, and harde to be remedied. For that that shulde heale it (which is wordes of wisdome) cureth them that harkneth there vnto; but pratlers wille here none but them selfe.

FOOTNOTES:

[241] Scarcely.



+ Of him that sought his asse and rode on his backe. lx.

+ There was in the countrey of Florence an husbande man, that vsed to carye corne to the market vpon many lytell asses. On a tyme as he came home warde, bycause he was somewhat werye, to ease him selfe, he rode on one the strongest of them. And as he rode, dryuinge his asses before him, he counted them, and forgot the asse that he rode on; wherfore he thought still that he lacked one. Thus sore troubled in his mynde, he bad his wyfe set vp his asses, and hastily rode agayne backe to the towne vii myles of, to seke the asse that he rode on. He asked euery body that he met, if they sawe an asse straye alone. Whan he herde euery bodye saye they sawe none suche, makynge great sorowe, he retourned home agayne. At laste, whan he was alyghted his wyfe parceyued and shewedde hym playnlye, that the asse, that he rode on, was the same that he soughte, and made suche sorowe fore.

This ieste may be well applied vnto suche as note the defautes, that they lyghtly[242] spy in other, and take none hede, nor can nat se, what ils they haue or[243] bene spotted with them selfe.



+ The answere of Fabius to Liuius. lxi.

+ Whan Anniball, the capitayne of Cartage, had conquered Tarent (a towne perteinyng to the Romayns), all saue the castell, and had lefte a garnison to kepe it, whan the worthy Romayne Fabius had knowelege therof, he pryuely conducted an armye thether, and got the towne agayne, and pylled[244] it. Than M. Liuius that kepte the castell with the garnison, sayde bostynge him selfe, that Fabius had gotte the towne through him and his helpe. You saye trouth, quod Fabius: for if you had nat loste the towne, I shulde neuer haue gotte hit.[245]

FOOTNOTES:

[242] Readily. A story very like this occurs in A Sackful of Newes, 1673. It was originally related by Poggius in his Facetiae, where it is entitled Asinus Perditus, and it has been imitated by La Fontaine in the fable of "Le Villageois qui cherche son veau." It is also the 12th tale of Les Cent Nouvelles Nouvelles.

[243] Before.

[244] Pillaged.



+ The answere of Poltis, the kynge of Thrace, to the Troyan embassadors.[246] lxii.

+ Plutarche lyke wyse reherseth that, durynge the warre of Troy, the Grekes and also the Troians sent ambassadours to a kynge of Thrace calledde Poltis, whiche kynge answered th ambassadours and bade, that Alexandre shulde delyuer agayne Helayne (for she was the cause of the warre), and he wolde gyue him ii fayre wyues for her.

FOOTNOTES:

[245] "Now there was one Marcus Livius, a ROMAINE that was Gouernour of TARENTUM at that time when Hanniball tooke it, and neverthelesse kept the castell still out of Hannibals hands, and so held it untill the city came againe into the hands of the ROMAINES. This Livius spited to see such honour done to Fabius, so that one day in open Senate, being drowned with enuy and ambition, he burst out and said, that it was himselfe, not Fabius, that was cause of taking of the city of TARENTUM again. Fabius, smiling to hear him, answeryd him opely: 'Indeed, thou saiest true, for if thou hadst not lost it, I had never won it again.'"—Plutarch's Lives, transl. by Sir T. North, ed. 1603, fol. 192.

[246] [Greek: Poltus, ho Thrakon basileus en to Troiko polemo presbeusamenon pros auton hama ton Troon kai ton Achaion, ekeleuse ton Alexandron apodonta ten Helenen, duo par autou labein kalas gynaikas.]—Plutarchi Apothegmata (Opera Moralia et Philosophica, vol. vi. p. 665, edit. Lipsiae, 1777).



+ The wyse answere of Hanibal to kynge Antiochus, concerninge his ryche armye. lxiii.

+ Whan kynge Antiochus had prepared to make warre to the Romayns, he caused his armye to mustre before Anniball. So they shewed and mustred, both horse men and fote men; of whose ryche and sumptuous armour and apparaile al the felde glistred and shone. How saye you, quod the kynge to Hanibal, is nat this armye sufficient ynough for the Romayns? Yes, quod Haniball, and though they were the moste couetous of all the worlde. The kynge mente one thing, and he answered an other.[247]



+ The wordes of Popilius the Romayn embassadour to Antiochus the kynge. lxiiii.

+ One C. Popilius was sente vp[o]n a tyme by the Senatours of Rome with letters to Antiochus the kynge of Syrye, wherin the kyng was commaunded to calle his armye backe agayne oute of Aegipte: and that he shulde suffer the chyldren of Ptolome and theyr realme in peace. As th embassadour came by the kynges tentes and pauylyons, Antiochus a good waye of saluted him, but he did nat salute the kynge agayne, but delyuered to him his letters. Whan the kynge hadde redde the letters, he sayde, that he muste take counsayle, before he made him an answere. Popilius, with a rod that he had in his hande, made a compace aboute the kynge, and sayde: euen here standinge, take counsayle, and make me an answere. Euery man hadde meruayle at the grauite and stout stomacke of the man; and whan Antiochus was contente to do as the Romayns wolde haue hym, than Popilius both saluted and embraced him.[248]

FOOTNOTES:

[247] See the 21st Novel of the 1st tome of the Palace of Pleasure (Haslewood's edit. i. 74).



+ Of him that loued the marchants wyfe. lxv.

+ Ther was a yonge lusty gentyll man vpon a tyme that was ryght amorous, and loued a certayne marchauntes wyfe oute of all measure, in so moch that he folowed her to the churche and other places, but he durste neuer speake. At the laste he, with two or thre of his felowes, folowed her to a fryers, where he hadde tyme and place conueniente to speake thre or four wordes to her, that he before had deuysed. So one of his felowes sayde: go nowe, speake to her. But he stode styll all astonied. They egged[249] and prouoked him so moche, that at last he wente vnto her, and, clene forgettynge those wordes that he had thoughte to haue spoken, he said to her on this wise: maistres, I am your owne lytel seruante; wherat she smyled and sayd: syr, I nede nat your seruyce: for I haue seruantes inow at home, that can brusshe, sponge, wasshe and do all my other busines. The whiche answere and folysshe basshemente of the gentyl man caused his felowes to laugh hartelye. This maner of folye was well knowen to the poet, whan he sayde:

Incipit affari, mediaque in voce resistit.

Folysshe loue maketh folkes astonied And eke to raue without remembrance Whan they shulde speake, they bene abasshed And of theyr wordes can make none vtterance Nor be so hardye them selfe to auance What tyme they se of her the swete face Of whom the loue theyr hartes doth enbrace.

FOOTNOTES:

[248] "Quibus perlectis, quum se consideraturum, adhibitis amicis, quid faciendum sibi esset, dixisset, Popilius, pro cetera asperitate animi, virga, quam in manu gerebat, circumscripsit regem: ac, 'Priusquam hoc circulo excedas,' inquit, 'redde responsum, senatui quod referam.' Obstupefactus tam violento imperio parumper quum haesitasset, 'Faciam,' inquit 'quod censet Senatus.' Tun demum Popilius dextram regi, tanquam socio atque amico, porrexit."—Livy, lib. xlv. c. 12, edit. Twiss.

[249] Edged.



+ Of the woman that couerd her heed and shewed her taile. lxvi.

+ As a woman, that for a certayne impedimente had shaued her heed, sat in her house bare heed, one of her neighbours called her forth hastely into the strete, and for haste she forgotte to putte on her kerchefe. When her neighbour sawe her so, she blamed her for cominge abrode bare heed: wherfore she whypte vp her clothes ouer her heed. And so to couer her hed she shewed her * * *. They, that stode by, beganne to laugh at her folysshenes, whiche to hyde a lytell faute shewed a greatter.[250]

This tale touchethe them, that wolde couer a smalle offence with a greatter wyckednesse; and as the prouerbe saythe: Stomble at a strawe, and leape ouer a blocke.



+ Howe Alexander was monysshed to slee the fyrste that he mette. lxvii.

+ Whan great Alexander wolde entre in to Perse lande with his armye, he counsayled with Apollo of his good spede:[251] and by lotte[252] he was warned, that he shulde commaunde to slee the fyrst that he mette, whan he issued out at a gate. Perchaunce, the fyrste that he mette was a man dryuynge an asse before hym. Incontinent the kyng commaunded to take and put hym to dethe. Whan the poore man sawe, that they wolde slee him, he said: what haue I done? Shall I that am an innocent [man] be putte to deathe? Alexander, to excuse his dede, sayde, he was warned by diuine monition to commaunde to slee the fyrste that he mette comynge out at that gate. If it be so, myghty kyng (quod the man), than the lotte dyuine hath ordeyned an other to suffre this deth and not me: for the lytel asse, that I droue before me, mette you fyrste.

Whiche subtyle sayenge greatly pleased Alexander: for elles he had done amysse; and so he caused the beaste to be slayne.

By this tale one may note, that it is better sometyme to be laste than fyrste.

FOOTNOTES:

[250] "Mal est cache a qui l'on void le dos."—Leigh's Select French Proverbs, 1664.

[251] Good fortune.

[252] Casting of lots.



+ Howe the cite of Lamsac was saued from destruction. lxviii.

+ As great Alexander on a tyme was fully purposed to haue vtterly distroyed a great cite, called Lamsac,[253] he sawe his mayster Anaximenes[254] come towarde him withoute the walles: and bicause the kynge perceyued manifestlye, that he came to entreate hym for the cite, he sware a great othe, that he wolde nat do that that he came to desyre hym fore. Than Anaximenes sayde: sir, I desyre your grace, that this same cite Lampsac may be vtterly distroyed. Through which sage and subtile sayeng the noble auncient citie was saued from ruyne and destruction.

FOOTNOTES:

[253] Lampsacus.

[254] Anaximenes, the historian, who wrote an account of the Life of Alexander the Great. He was a native of Lampsacus, and the nephew of the orator of the same name.



+ Howe Demosthenes defended a mayde. lxix.

+ There were two men on a time, the whiche lefte a great somme of money in kepyng with a maiden on this condition, that she shulde nat delyuer hit agayne, excepte they came bothe to gether for hit. Nat lang after, one of them cam to hir mornyngly arayde, and sayde that his felowe was deed, and so required the money, and she delyuered it to hym. Shortly after came the tother man, and required to haue the moneye that was lefte with her in kepyng. The maiden was than so sorowfull, both for lacke of the money, and for one to defende her cause, that she thought to hange her selfe. But Demosthenes, that excellent oratour, spake for her and sayd: sir, this mayden is redy to quite her fidelite,[255] and to deliuer agayne the money that was lefte with her in kepynge, so that thou wylt brynge thy felowe with the to resceyue it. But that he coude nat do.



+ Of him that desired to be made a gentilman. lxx.

+ There was a rude clubbysshe[256] felowe, that longe had serued the duke of Orliance; wherfore he cam on a tyme to the duke, and desired to be made a gentyll man. To whom the duke answered: in good feyth, I may well make the ryche, but as for gentyl man I can neuer make the.[257]

By which wordes appereth, that goodes and riches do not make a gentyl man, but noble and vertuous conditions do.

FOOTNOTES:

[255] i.e. Discharge, or acquit herself of, her trust.

[256] Uncouth. "If thou shuldest refuse to do any of these thynges, and woldest assaye to do some thing of more sadnes and prudence, they wyll esteme and count the vnmanerly, cloubbysshe, frowarde, and clene contrarye to all mennes myndes."—Erasmus De Contemptu Mundi, transl. by Thomas Paynel, 1533, fol. 42. "Rusticitie may seem to be an ignorance of honesty and comelinesse. A Clowne or rude fellow is he, who will goe into a crowd or presse, when he hath taken a purge: and hee that sayth, that Garlicke is as sweet as a gillifiower: that weares shooes much larger then his foot: that speakes alwaies very loud:" &c.,—Theophrastus His Characters, translated by John Healey, 1616, pp. 15, 16. It is a generally received opinion that this work has come down to us in a corrupt shape.

[257] Times were altered when the curious ballad "These Knights will hack," printed by Mr. Halliwell from Addit. MS. 5832, in one of the Shakespeare Society's publications (Marriage of Wit and Wisdom, &c., p. 144), was directed against the mushroom-knights of James I.:—

"Come all you farmers out of the countrey, Carters, plowmen, hedgers, and all, Tom, Dick, and Will, Ralph, Roger, and Humphrey, Leave of your gestures rusticall. Bidde all your home-sponne russets adue, And sute yourselves in fashions new: Honour invits you to delights; Come all to court, and be made knights. He that hath fortie pounds per annum Shal be promoted from the plow: His wife shall take the wall of her grannam, Honour is sould so dog-cheap now," &c.



+ Of the gentyll man and his shrewde wyfe. lxxi.

+ There was a certayne gentyll man, that had a cursed chydynge wyfe, that wente euery day, and complayned on hym to a religious man, the whiche religious man toke vpon hym by weye of confession to reconcile and accorde them to gether: and the gentyll man was very well contente, that he so shulde do, and came to him therfore. Whan the gentyll man was come, the religious man badde hym shewe his offences and trespaces. No, quod the gentyll man, that nedeth nat: for I knowe verye well my wyfe hath shewed vnto you all the offences that euer I dyd, and moche more.



+ Of the two yonge men that rode to Walsyngham.[258] lxxii.

+ One John Roynoldes[259] rode oute of London vpon a tyme towarde Walsyngham, in company of a yonge man of the same cite, that hadde nat moche ben accustomed to ryde. So they came to an Inne, where a[260] great companye was lodged. And in the mornynge whan euery man made hym redy to ryde, and some were on horsebacke setting forwarde, John Roynoldes founde his companion, syttynge in a browne study at the Inne gate, to whom he sayd: for shame, man, how syttest thou? Why doste thou nat make the redy to horsebacke, that we myght sette forwarde with companye? I tary (quod he) for a good cause. For what cause, quod Roynoldes? Marye (quod he), here be so many horses, that I can nat telle whiche is myne owne amonge the other, and I knowe well, whan euery man is riden and gone, the horse that remaineth behynde must nedes be myn.

FOOTNOTES:

[258] Consult the new edition of Nares' Glossary, voce Walsingham. "This is an Image of oure Ladye. Ergo it is oure Ladye, and here she wyll worke wounders more than in an other place, as she dyd at Walsingham, at Boston, at Lincoln, at Ipswiche, and I cannot tell where."—Wilson's Rule of Reason, 1551, 8vo. sign S ii verso. In Percy's Reliques, ii. 91, is the ballad "As I went to Walsingham." "Have with you to Walsingham" is mentioned as a musical composition in Ward's Lives of the Professors of Gresham College. See also Burney's Hist. of Music, iii. p. 111. When people employed this form of adjuration, as was formerly very common, they were said, for brevity's sake, "to swear Walsingham." In the play of The Weakest Goeth to the Wall, 1600, 4to. Barnaby Bunch the Botcher sings:

"King Richard's gone to Walsingham, To the Holy Land!"

with what are intended for comic interlocutions. In March, 1502—3, Elizabeth of York, consort of Henry VII, made an oblation of six shillings and eightpence to "oure lady of Walsingham" (Privy Purse Expenses of Elizabeth of York, edited by Nicolas, p. 3). This offering may not appear very large, but it was thought a considerable sum to devote to the purpose in those days; for in the Northumberland Household Book, ed. 1827, p. 337, we find that the yearly offering of the Earl of Northumberland (Henry Algernon Percy, 5th. Earl, b. 1478, d. 1527) to the same shrine was fourpence. There is a fuller account of the Shrine of Walsingham, &c., in Chappell's Popular Music of the Olden Time, 121, et seqq.